


Elixir

by Kissa



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Feels, Geraskier, Geskier, M/M, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:35:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22420417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kissa/pseuds/Kissa
Summary: Geralt is still figuring out his feelings for Jaskier and the bard helps him sort them out and come to a resolution.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 5
Kudos: 297





	Elixir

Jaskier grabbed his chalice, recently refilled by one of the girls who were there to see to it that the guests had an endless supply of drinks.    
  
He knew exactly where the party was headed. As someone of noble blood and a celebrity of the entire realm, he was a guest of honour, and he had already performed at the beginning of the night, before everyone had begun to drink themselves into oblivion.    
  
Geralt was there for the wine, or so he claimed, but Jaskier wasn’t so sure about that. The witcher kept throwing him restless looks while held up in conversation with the local mage and various knights and noblemen.    
  
Jaskier saw that Geralt was busy with politics and he quickly got bored, choosing instead to direct his attention to some of the women who were fawning over the most famous bard in the land. He let them lead him to the gardens, where he was sure they would show him all the ways in which they appreciated his lyrical mastery.    
  
He did not make it out the door of the banquet hall though. Geralt whisked him away without any explanation to the ladies and led him down a dark corridor and up several flights of stairs.    
  
“Your quarters?” The witcher asked curtly.    
  
Jaskier led him down the hall, to the main door, and fumbled for the key in his pocket.    
  
“Will you at least tell me why you had to pluck me out of what is surely going to be one of the most memorable orgies of our time?” He protested. 

Geralt remained silent and instead took the key from Jaskier’s hands, his much steadier hand finding the keyhole much sooner and letting them both into the very luxurious room.    
  
“How much did you drink?” Geralt asked, watching the other man stumble towards the bed and let himself sit with his back against the foot of the bed, a bit like a discarded child’s toy. Something was clouding the bard’s usually sunny disposition and Geralt cursed inwardly at missing that the entire evening.    
  
They had met in a hamlet not far from the castle and he had tagged along - for the wine, he had claimed - but in reality, because he had missed his one friend in the entire Continent. He hoped he would find Jaskier well and happy. Obviously, this was not how things were, otherwise Jaskier would not have drunk so much before the good part even began.    
  
Geralt hoped he was wrong. He was still learning to read subtle cues and he had never spent this much time worrying about someone else. It was terrifying - it left him feeling so exposed and easy to hunt and wound. Get to Jaskier, get to him.    
  
But there was no denying they were meant to cross paths and travel together for a while. Not long ago, Jaskier had so generously forgiven him for breaking his heart and sending him away out of fear.    
  
Fear was not a good place to be in, Geralt knew that. And the much younger man had shown a courage Geralt had not had back in that past moment.    
  
They had spent a few days together at an inn in a town where Jaskier was treated like a prince. Geralt had surprised himself with how much he craved the other man. Underneath his grumpy rejections and constant admonishing, there was genuine fondness and the dread that, once he admitted to himself and to Jaskier that there was something there, something yet unnamed, halfway between friendship and flaring desire, he would be punished by having to see Jaskier die a violent death.    
  
_ Everyone dies, but people near me die quicker.  _

“Geralt? Are you going to stand there all night? Though I must say, you’re a most delectable sight.” Jaskier called from the floor.    
  
Geralt had indulged the bard’s requests and had changed into the luxurious, clean outfit Jaskier had brought him - black velvet and taffeta with silver embroidery, silk undergarments and boots to match. He had bathed, shaved and washed his hair, too.    
  
And he had no idea what seeing him like that did to Jaskier.    
  
“Apologies. Thoughts came.” Geralt offered and began to undress.    
  
He stopped at the last layer. Not everyone found his many extensive scars attractive.    
  
“No, take it all off.” Jaskier said, standing and beginning to undress as well, folding his clothes neatly and putting them aside on an ornate chair.    
  
Naked as the day he was born, he walked around the bed to one side and climbed in, leaving room for Geralt, who got the hint and removed the last of his clothing before joining him.   
  
Jaskier looked at Geralt in the cold blue moonlight, sighing and feeling overwhelmed by the emotion that flooded him.    
  
He had Geralt there with him, and yet he did not have him at all. They would never grow old together or live in a house by the sea, with tiny animals and a clothes line where their laundry would billow in the wind. There would never be evenings spent together by the fire or with Geralt falling asleep after a day of work, with his head in Jaskier’s lap while Jaskier’s song filled the darkness of the night, joined by crickets and nightingales.    
The witcher wasted no time, pulling Jaskier close and cupping his butt cheeks, pressing their hips together, dipping his head to bite at the smaller man’s throat.    
  
“Geralt!” 

“Mhmmm?” the witcher hummed against Jaskier’s skin before biting the spot and sucking down on it, hard enough to leave a mark.    
  
“Geralt, stop right now.”    
  
And the witcher did, looking up at the other man with concern.    
  
“Too hard?”    
  
“No… I just… I wish…” Jaskier was at a loss for words because he hadn't thought this far. He hadn’t expected to be heard. Nor to have the courage to bring it up.    
  
Geralt had the tact to wait and listen, moving further away so he could look Jaskier in the eyes.   
  
“I don’t want to be just a hole for you to empty your pent up urges and worries into. I want to feel like I matter somehow. I know you’re not mine, but... be with me when we’re together.” 

Geralt heard himself gasp. It felt like a stab to the gut to hear Jaskier feel that way, because he instantly knew it was true.    
  
He had always found all sorts of people attractive, interesting or good enough to spend a night with. But he’d never felt the burning need to get lost in someone else before he left this world the way he felt with Jaskier.    
  
The bard was everything he was not and by all intents and purposes, they should have been mortal enemies, but Jaskier had an irresistible sweetness to him and the ability to scheme and deceive of a toddler. And he saw Geralt in a light that the witcher did not see himself in. He had never stood a chance, but all this time he had told himself that if he buried how he felt, the cruel gods of destiny would overlook his weakness and spare Jaskier the fate all who came close to the witcher perished from.    
  
Geralt squeezed his eyes shut briefly, cringing at the phrasing.   
  
“Don’t say that. You aren’t that to me. I could never.”    
  
He still couldn’t find the eloquence to say what he wanted to say properly, so he pulled the smaller man close and wrapped him in his arms.    
  
“I keep doing wrong by you.” Geralt added, sighing.    
  
Jaskier nuzzled into his chest with his eyes closed and a blissful expression on his face.    
  
“Well you’re doing right now.” 

“Rest with me for a while. We can talk more tomorrow.” Geralt whispered, his hands caressing down Jaskier’s back and helping him settle more comfortably against his chest.    
  
“This is bliss,” Jaskier commented drowsily. “I wanted it so much.” 

Geralt couldn’t help the wave of protectiveness and softness that washed over him for the man in his arms. Put that way it made sense. Of course he could give Jaskier what he wanted. 

He allowed himself to drift off into sleep as well, as soon as he made sure nothing would disturb their rest.   
  
***   
  
“Geralt? Geralt, wake up and tell me right now what you would like for breakfast.” Jaskier chirped happily, covering the rooster’s tune coming from outside.    
  
“Are you always this energetic first thing in the morning?” Geralt muttered, grabbing his pillow and covering his head with it. “Wait, don’t answer that.”    
  
A hand slipped under the covers and squeezed a meaty butt cheek.    
  
“Breakfast. Order. Now.”    
  
Geralt was shocked at how much he enjoyed it when Jaskier made himself sound like such a bossy brat.    
  
“Fine. Four eggs, four pork belly rashers, spinach and a heaping bowl of oatmeal with fruit.”   
  
“See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Jaskier said, getting out of bed and donning a robe. “I’m headed for the kitchens. I already bathed and I advise you do the same, the castle has running warm water. Hurry up. I want to have breakfast in the gardens and watch the sunrise. The robe at the foot of the bed should fit you.”    
  
Jaskier headed for the door, stopped, then turned around and pounced on Geralt.    
  
“I almost forgot.” He said, leaning down and kissing the witcher, who had by now turned onto his back again. The kiss was minty, from the flavoured oil Jaskier used to keep his mouth clean and his teeth sparkling white.    
  
Geralt allowed himself to land in the moment and let it in. Didn’t he always say that life is short and joy should be seized in whichever form it presents itself? He took his own advice and kissed the bard back, bringing a hand up to card his fingers through the soft brown locks.    
  
Before he could do anything further, Jaskier was at the door again, running down the halls and down the stairs to the kitchens.    
  
Geralt went to the bathroom, deciding to take advantage of the luxurious facilities and ready himself for the day. The bath was indeed amazing and the warm water with various salts drew the aches and pains out of Geralt’s bones.    
  
He was drying himself off when Jaskier returned, looking a bit more deflated than earlier when he’d left.    
  
“Breakfast will be an hour.” He announced, pouting a bit.    
  
“That’s alright. I have a suggestion on how to pass the time.” Geralt said, turning to look at the bard. He was only wearing a towel, which he removed and used to pat his hair dry.    
  
Jaskier stopped in his tracks and swallowed hard. He felt light-headed almost instantly as desire flooded his mind. He now only saw Geralt. He even forgot about his plans to go to the gardens.    
  
He shed the robe and walked up to Geralt, letting the much bigger man lean in and kiss him and holding on to the witcher to steady himself. He heard himself sigh into the kiss like a girl, but he didn’t care. It felt right, especially when his sigh was echoed by Geralt’s appreciative “mhmmm”.    
  
They went back to bed, with Jaskier now fully on top of Geralt, their bodies effortlessly moving against each other in a rhythm that came naturally now.    
  
Geralt broke the kiss and waited for Jaskier to look at him.   
  
“Do you trust me?”   
  
“Yes, I do, Geralt. Just don’t try anything scary. I don’t get off on fearing for my life.”    
  
“Trust me with your pleasure, then?”    
  
“Alright. Much better.”    


“Where do you keep the nice oil?”    
  
“Check under my pillow.”    
  
Geralt reached for the oil and found it where it was supposed to be. Holding the vial up, he cocked an eyebrow up at Jaskier.   
  
“What do we do when this runs out? I’ve been spoilt for more pedestrian oils. And I refuse to stop fucking you.” 

Jaskier couldn’t help but laugh. Leave it to Geralt to be blunt like a club to the head. But the sentiment was there and that was what Jaskier had longed for.    
  
“Fear not, I know where to get some more from. We are not the only ones who benefit from the oil’s properties.”    
  
Geralt waited for Jaskier to lie down and get comfortable before covering him with his larger body, hovering close so he could kiss him while taking a hold of both their cocks, rubbing them together to full hardness.    
  
Jaskier let himself melt into the sheets and gave himself over to Geralt’s touches. He’d been awed to learn that in his long life roaming the Continent, Geralt had not felt the push to lie with another man before him. He knew Geralt found all sorts of people (and some creatures too) attractive, but most of the time he settled for admiring them in private, from afar. Which made it all the more rewarding to see how intent on making him fall apart with pleasure the witcher was. He could not remain idle for too long, as his fingers itched to trace the carved contours of Geralt’s arm muscles and caress his fuzzy, hard pecs.    
  
Jaskier enjoyed the witcher’s lips on his neck and chest leaving kisses and nips in their trail, lingering on his nipples, sucking and biting until the nubs hardened almost painfully, wet against the morning chill in the room. He squirmed and looked for one of Geralt’s hands to hold when he felt teeth scrape over his abs and bite down on one of the ridges forming the V of his Adonis belt.    


What he did not expect though was the witcher’s tongue wrap around his cock head and lift it from its spot on Jaskier’s lower belly, into Geralt’s mouth. 

Geralt hmmmed his approval around Jaskier’s cock, needing some time to figure out how to navigate the situation before settling on trying to swallow the entire length. And even though the start was a bit clumsy, Jaskier nearly passed out when he looked down and saw Geralt’s eyes on him, cheekbones now even more prominent as the witcher’s mouth closed and hollowed out around his cock, seemingly trying to suck the soul out of him.    
  
Jaskier only realised Geralt had begun to stretch him when he felt a finger pad nudge his spot awake, soon followed by a second, which added to the pressure and the way the bard’s entire body was tightly wound.    
  
It was clear where this was going and Jaskier was losing his patience.    
  
“Unless you plan to fit your entire fist up my backside, I beg you to please note that I am ready. I cannot possibly wait longer.” Jaskier nearly whined. That first moment when Geralt’s massive cock spread him open was still daunting, but once he had sampled the perfection of how their bodies fit together, with Geralt sheathed completely inside him, he had wanted to feel that over and over again. And for that, he was willing to trade a few moments of discomfort.    
  
Geralt shook his head around Jaskier’s cock, a devious look in his eyes. He was going to finish preparing Jaskier when and only when he judged him ready.    
  
It happened by the time he could easily fit three fingers inside and that earned a pleased grunt from the witcher, while the bard babbled incoherently beneath him, having seen that begging got him absolutely nothing.   
  
“Jaskier!” Geralt’s voice pulled the bard from his needy reverie. “Straddle me facing the other way. I want to watch you taking me in. At your pace.” 

“Wha-? Oh. OH-oooohhhhh.” Jaskier’s mind needed a bit to restart, but once it got the picture, he sprang to his knees and moved into position. He looked back at Geralt and his engorged cock, feeling suddenly grateful for the witcher’s patient preparation. He tried to picture what Geralt was seeing and he felt his thighs start to shake. Before he got too self-conscious to proceed, he held Geralt’s cock into position and gingerly lowered himself onto it.   
  
He had to remind himself to breathe and once the head was in, he rested his hands on Geralt’s strong thighs. Like this, the witcher felt even bigger and Jaskier knew he would have to go slowly.    
  
“Geralt, I… I don’t think I can move.” He said, looking over his shoulder.    
  
“Pain? Or too much?” Geralt asked, sitting up and wrapping his arms around the smaller man.It changed something in the way they were joined, so that now the pressure was elsewhere and Jaskier felt instantly safe and reassured with Geralt’s arms around him. 

“No, not pain. I’m just… I won’t last and I have no control and what if I break your… your…”    
  
“Alright. I’ve got you.”   
  
The next thing Jaskier felt was the world going away briefly, and everything becoming tilted, as he soon realised Geralt had lain back down with Jaskier on top of him, their bodies still locked together.    
  
The new change in angle was delicious and Jaskier went limp on top of Geralt, letting him have all the control in every way. He did not even think of reaching down and touching himself. He just planted his feet on the sheets on either side of Geralt and let the witcher move up into him and touch him in every way he wanted.    
  
The sensations were familiar, but with a new shine to them. Jaskier was not used to giving away so much of his control, but he did not regret doing so with Geralt, who was making his entire body hum with pleasure. He wasn’t realising it, but his litany of unabashed moans, gasps and breathless descriptions of what he was feeling was arousing Geralt out of his mind.    
  
Geralt fucked him right through his first orgasm and into a second, when everything was so over sensitised and wound up, but still able to meet the witcher’s irresistible coaxing. 

Geralt sensed when Jaskier had reached his limit of what he could pleasurably take, and allowed himself to come as well, flipping them over and letting Jaskier take his whole weight for the last few thrusts.    
  
Jaskier felt just on this side of going mad and he briefly worried that being fucked this hard could affect his mind long term. He did not even feel Geralt’s weight on top of him at the moment and when the witcher slipped out of him and climbed off, he felt immense loss, as though he would never be whole again. He immediately sought the witcher’s reassuring embrace and he remained quiet for long moments while Geralt saw to cleaning them both and providing much-welcome warmth and cuddles.    
  
Later, in the gardens, they shared a lovely breakfast, still mostly in silence, with Jaskier snuggled into Geralt’s side on a luxurious garden swing.    
  
“And we didn’t even miss the sunrise.” Geralt commented smugly, looking into the distance at the reddening skies. 

He ate a slice of peach and leaned down to kiss Jaskier. Destiny was welcome to swoop in and fuck him all it wanted. He now had these moments, memories with someone who meant the world to him in a way no one else could. And that gave him a sense of immortality like no elixir or potion ever could. 

(end)    



End file.
